


untitled one-shot collection

by el_vip



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, series of one-shots/drabbles, will be more characters and pairings added as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_vip/pseuds/el_vip
Summary: Just a collection of one-shots I'm going to start writing of different pairings!
Relationships: Blaze the Cat/Shadow the Hedgehog, Espio the Chameleon/Rouge the Bat
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Espio/Rouge

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't edit this, and i barely know anything about espio or his personality so here we goooooo
> 
> was written as a request for a friend! :)

_Isn’t he always giving people a hand?_

He doesn’t usually mind it, if he’s being honest, but it’s the reason why he’s ended up in this particular situation. 

There’s a miserable jangle off to his right as his unfortunate fellow victim to handcuffing shifts her weight around. He almost makes a remark about it, almost chastises her for moving around so much, _almost_ lets it be an outlet for his frustration at the general situation, before his better instinct takes over and he reasons with himself that this is certainly partially his fault too. 

It was his choice to investigate the place, after all, but it definitely wasn’t his fault that G.U.N. had sights on it as well. 

The chain between them jingles against the floor again and he glances over this time. His eyes meet hers immediately. Ah. So she was trying to get his attention anyway. Her mouth curls up in that coy little smile of hers the instant their eyes meet. 

For a second, he thinks that that might be dangerous. Maybe that’s just the sharp point of the short fang that pokes over a perfectly made-up lower lip that’s talking. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” 

She sounds far too pleased about this whole thing. 

When he doesn’t respond much in the way of anything, her brow furrows a little, good-natured but with an emphasised teasing pout. It’s hard to tell what she wants. 

Aside from the attention, of course. 

Rouge clears her throat, as if that’d help. When it doesn’t, she makes an exasperated noise and edges closer, until Espio can just about feel the leathery sensation of her wings against a shoulder. 

“Can I help you?” He can tell the words are a mistake as soon as they’re out of his mouth and she perks up, mouth curling up at the edges, body angling a little to lean around and look him in the face. Her free hand is holding her up against the floor barely an inch away from his own hand and he represses the urge to move it away. That’d mean she’d have won, though he’s not sure what exactly she’s winning.

“Maybe you can, handsome,” she says, and it’s followed with a wink. She does that to everyone, so he ignores it. Mostly. 

“You know, we’ll be here for a while…” She adjusts herself so that she can sit all the closer, without putting the weight on her hand. If only so that she can lift it and inspect the ends of her gloves, it seems. “You could stand to entertain me.” 

He bristles. His mouth opens to come up with some kind of slightly stammered rebuttal, when it occurs to him that that’s what she wants. It doesn’t help her attempts at secrecy when there’s a decided spark of something close to excitement in her eyes just as they glance down to his mouth, still open a sliver with no words coming out.

He closes it with a faint grumble and tries to ignore the fact that her expression turning a touch dejected at not getting what she wants makes him feel just a little bad. 

He admires her resilience though, when she perks right back up again, with a twitch of one ear. “Come on, we’ll be here for a while.” Rouge inches even closer. They’re close to shoulder to shoulder now. He can almost feel them touching, and there’s more of pressure from where her wing is folded up. He’s almost grateful for it acting as a physical barrier. “We might as well get a conversation in.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” It’s harsher than he means it to be, but seeing as they’re handcuffed together waiting for a rescue from their respective teams, he’s not in the most pleased of moods.

He’ll actively try and ignore the part of him that’s relieved when she doesn’t seem particularly downtrodden by his dismissiveness. 

She laughs and it’s only a little derisive, the rest entirely genuinely amused. His first thought is that it’s a nice sound. His second thought is something equivalent to almost an expletive over him having thought the first thing. The third is something briefly chastising over his general reactions and then the internal dialogue he’s having. 

When she stops laughing, she lifts her bound arm to jingle the chain connecting them in the air. “I think we’re a little past the point of hostilities,” she ploughs on through the sound of his sighing, when he knows she’s right. “We should _bond_ , get cosy with each other.”

It takes her barely another second to close the gap - quite literally, as she shifts closer again and now settles herself up against his arm, leaning her weight on him. He tenses as she does, but he doesn’t exactly want to push her off. 

It isn’t like it’s the most uncomfortable of positions, and it’s not like she weighs all that much, and she’s warm, and as she launches into some anecdote about one of her own recent escapades in an attempt to half-heartedly give up something about herself and whole-heartedly impress, he figures he’s been in plenty of worse places, in many a worse situation than this. 

Maybe it’s going to be a long wait, for their respective teammates to come and bail them out, but if he thinks about it for more than a moment, he can’t bring himself to pretend that he won’t enjoy being here, even if just a little. There are far, _far_ worse fates and far, _far_ worse people for him to be stuck with, after all.


	2. Shadow/Blaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of more ambiguous stuff, this time a little domestic kinda thing. 
> 
> also not edited i'm sorry to say

“I ought to thank you, really.” The words come muffled from her mouth, where the length of bandage she’s unwinding is clamped, to keep it from running away from her. Shadow scoffs, as he is wont to do, and tips his head to one side, away from her and her practised hand as she cuts through the roll with a decisive surgical snip. 

His teeth grit, just slightly as she starts to wind the gauze around the laceration that’s sunk itself into the flesh of his arm. He’s already told her that he doesn’t need tending to, that he can do it himself, that it’ll heal soon enough anyway, but the princess was insistent and after the displays he’s seen of her stubbornness, he figured it was easier to forgo the battle of pushing her off. 

“What for?” His response is too slow and he almost feels uncomfortable filling what had been momentary silence. 

Blaze makes an amused sound in her throat, a faint sort of rumbling, that he might consider soothing if he weren’t deadset against thinking of it as so. It’s replaced quickly when her brow furrows over the re-agitated wound beginning to ooze blood again. If it weren’t for the off-white of bandaging, it would be lost in the colour of his fur, and he’s almost sorry it isn’t. 

“Saving my life,” she murmurs, quiet, distracted now as she winds fabric around his arm with a slightly steadier hand. She’s watching the flow of his blood closer now, though it’s mostly only speckling from being jostled. The dressing is snug, but firmly so, rather than tight. She seems to be good at dealing with injuries. He allows himself to wonder if it’s from practice with her own. 

Blaze radiates heat, too, in intensive quantities that he supposes make sense all things considered about her nature. Part of him thinks that could be soothing as well, if he’d let it be. 

He can’t help the second scoff that leaves him, this time more indignant, a touch softer. His head dips with the weight of it, shaking derisively. “You’ve saved mine twice. We still aren’t even… Even.” 

The words get a rise out of her, a genuine laugh this time, a flash of pointed canines that he begrudgingly admits - not out loud, of course - is a nice sound. And a nice view. It’s followed with her head lowering a little, to tear off a strip of medical tape with her teeth and push it neatly over the edge of the wrapping to keep it in place. For as long as he’ll sit still. She doubts it’ll last considering his lifestyle choices. 

Blaze stands from her seat and brushes herself off, before taking a moment to stand with her tilted head, to admire her own handiwork. It’s perfect, naturally, and there’s a smugness nestled in the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. 

“I’m a princess, Shadow.” He knows this, wonders why she’s bringing it up when he knows she despises the formalities that come with her title, despite them having been key factors in her raising. He values not being on fire too much to comment but he’s always found her distaste for it a little odd, all things considered. One could simply look at her and know she’s from a more noble breed than most, with her impeccable posture and the way she emanates power on a more base level than most people he’s met. 

He respects that, almost feels a kinship with it. 

His thoughts are disrupted by her speaking again, her arms now folded over her body, tail swaying loosely behind her. It’s a more relaxed sign than most. “I don’t bother keeping track of debts like that. It’d be ridiculous.” 

For the briefest of seconds, she almost has him feeling sheepish about having said it in the first place, before he recovers himself enough to roll his eyes. 

She pauses in the middle of the room for a moment, still standing and watching him with a careful eye, that bright, solid gold of hers. After she’s given him sufficient time to respond and determined that he has no plans to, she makes a humming noise, not dissimilar to the grumble in her throat from earlier. “I’m going to make us tea.” 

The implication hangs in the air as she leaves, that he isn’t to leave until she deems him fit to do so, and if he were entirely honest with himself Shadow’s not completely sure why he settles back into his seat without a protesting word.


End file.
